Empowerment
by mabelreid
Summary: One Shot...They say the color of purple makes us feel empowered. Reid is about to find out if there is truth in this theory when he arrives at UVA as a guest speaker and meets someone that might start him on the path to healing from the loss of Maeve.


**_Disclaimer:_**

**_A/n this one shot was a suggestion from my wonderful beta and is dedicated to her. Thank you REIDFANATIC for all you do to make sure my work is error free. Please enjoy._**

**_Empowerment_**

Usually, walking through the doors of a classroom at UVA made his heart pound in excitement. There was nothing better, in his estimation, than spending an hour learning something new, or even reviewing old material. In his opinion, learning never stopped. However, this attitude did not extend to standing in front of a group of young adults and lecturing them about color and the effect on mood, of all things. Therefore, his heart, instead of beating with the pure adrenaline rush of learning, now palpated with the knowledge that he had to stand in front of sixty students instead of sitting with them.

He straightened his shoulders as he hurried inside from the sharp sunlight of the winter day. He pulled off his sunglasses and stowed them in his messenger bag. He glanced at his watch and felt his heart slow down just a little. He was thirty minutes early, so he had plenty of time to run over the lecture he'd written and memorized.

The inside of the lecture hall was familiar, which went further in calming his nerves. One wall of the classroom, had windows that let in the bright winter sun. Thank goodness, he didn't have a Power Point presentation with his lecture, which would necessitate shutting the curtains. If he could feel the heat of the sun, then teaching this class might not feel like torture.

"Remember, no jokes about existentialists this time," he said under his breath.

The door squeaked behind him and he jumped. A woman with short, spiky, coppery hair and eyes the color of cinnamon entered.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Is this Room R7?"

"Ah, no, it's R9, actually," he informed her.

"I'm sorry." She flushed prettily pink in the cheeks. "This is my first time at UVA, and I'm afraid I was so nervous I forgot my reading glasses. The labels over the door aren't very clear."

He stood there staring at her because he couldn't think of anything else to say. She was tiny, about five one, he thought and delicate. Her figure was curvy, but not plump. She wore a navy blue suit with brass buttons that reminded him of a military uniform, but it suited her.

"Well, I'll leave you alone. My lecture begins in less than thirty minutes and I'm dying for a cup of coffee."

"I love coffee," Reid said so calmly he surprised himself, but he kept on. "The coffee in the cafeteria isn't my favorite, but it will do in a pinch."

"Are you asking me to buy you a bad cup of coffee?"

He liked the way her eyes sparkled in the light of the sun in the room. He said, "Yes, if that's all right with you."

"I think that's a brilliant idea, but now you have to tell me your name."

"Oh, right, um, it's Dr. Spencer Reid."

"I saw your name on the list of visiting lecturers today. You're with the FBI, right?"

"Yes," he said as he opened one of the double doors to the hallway for her.

Students passed by them with book bags and laptops. They chatted to each other, and for the most part, ignored Reid and this mysterious woman. He wended his way with her, around the groups of young people. He didn't try to talk to her until they reached the cafeteria and had their coffee. His sudden burst of courage hadn't followed him out of the lecture hall.

"Dr. Reid?"

He looked down at her inquiring eyes and his stomach fluttered just a little.

"What?"

"Is this okay?

He looked where she pointed to see that she picked a seat near windows that looked out over lawns and trees covered in sparkling snow.

"Um, yes," he put his coffee down and pulled out her chair before she could touch it.

"Thank you…I didn't think gentlemen existed in the world."

He went to his chair and sat down while he tried to think of something clever to say. Then the light went on in his head.

"You're Dr. Alexandria Sisko. You're lecturing on synesthesia. What a fascinating subject. Did you know - ?" He suddenly stopped speaking and looked out the window instead of at her.

"What?"

"It's nothing. It's your topic, so I'm sure you know everything there is to know about it."

"I don't think you can ever know all there is to know. I think we never stop learning."

His eyes met hers and she smiled so he said. "I was just thinking the same thing this morning."

"Good. Why don't you call me Rea? I hate Alexandria. It makes me feel like I belong in some 2nd century Roman court.

"If you call me Spencer, and I think your name is beautiful. You're Greek, right?"

"Half Greek," she said after sipping at her coffee. "You were right about this by the way."

"Sorry," he grinned.

"That's okay."

"You were going to tell me about your heritage."

"Was I?"

"Are you always this evasive?"

"Sorry, it's just that there's not much to tell," she said with a shrug. "I was born here. My great grandfather came here as a child with his parents. He married a Greek woman, just like every man in my family since the dawn of time. My father didn't, which shocked the family to its core, I think. Still, I love my family even if they're constantly wondering when I'll get married." She went pink again. "I can't believe I just said that out loud."

He laughed and it felt good. "It's okay. My Aunt often asks me the same question when I see her."

He looked out the window again and suddenly he didn't feel like smiling anymore. The sun went behind a cloud and cast a long shadow over the snow and trees.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing."

He could see in her eyes that she was curious about his sudden change in mood. He opened his mouth, but she said. "It's okay. Hell, you just met me. It's none of my business. Now, what else should we talk about before we have to get back to work?"

He studied her, but she didn't flinch. Her mouth curved up into another smile and suddenly the sun came out from behind the cloud again.

"I wanted to attend your lecture," he admitted. "Unfortunately, I had my own class to teach."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I'm not good in front of college students; I either go off of some tangent that has nothing to do with topic, or I tell really bad jokes."

"I highly doubt you're as bad in the classroom as you think. Otherwise, the university wouldn't ask you back."

"I know; it's just that this topic makes me nervous."

"Why?"

"It's called "Color Analysis and the Psychotic Mind."

"Sounds intriguing," she said over her coffee as the students at the table next to them got up, gathered their books and hurried out of the cafeteria.

"I wrote a paper on it last spring and the Dean asked me to speak to some of the Criminology students. I wrote it on a whim, there's not much scientific proof in the theory."

"Don't most scientific experiments start with a theory or hypothesis?"

"Yes, but I don't think -"

"Maybe you think too much."

He stared at her and then he laughed, which felt wonderful at this stage of his day. "My teammates tell me that all the time."

"I'd say they have a point."

He didn't know what to say to that so he decided to drink the rest of his coffee down in one gulp. It was still hot, but he managed not to choke on it.

"So tell me, what's it like to work for the FBI?"

"It's nothing glamorous like you see on television. The BAU is overworked and understaffed. I work with very talented people that sacrifice their time, and sometimes their sanity and lives for the job."

"I sense you're speaking from experience."

He didn't say anything, because what could he tell her about forced Dilaudid addiction, or torture at the hands of a mad man, or standing in front of a troubled young man holding an assault rifle, or another young man with his mind split in two, living in an institution for the rest of his life. It went on and on, all the horrors in his head.

_What about Maeve?_

No, not now.

"Spencer?"

"Sorry, I was thinking again."

"Hey, it looks like we better get going. It's almost nine."

He looked at his watch again and realized that nearly twenty minutes had passed since he'd met Rea, but there was something… He grabbed his messenger bag and stood up. "I can't believe it. It seems like we just sat down."

"Yeah, it does. I'm somewhat surprised I talked this much. It's not like me to sit down for coffee with a complete stranger."

He stopped in the act of pushing his chair back up to the little table. "I've never just blurted out an invitation like that."

"I'm glad you did."

"Me too. I'm glad you walked into the wrong room."

She smiled and winked at him. "I have more than one lecture scheduled this week. I hope you'll come to one of them."

"I'd love to and not just for the subject matter."

She grinned at him as they left the cafeteria together and he steered them toward the lecture rooms.

"I wish I had more than one lecture," he said.

"I thought you hated to speak to strangers."

"I do, but suddenly it doesn't seem important anymore."

"Why do I think it's not just the lecture you're talking about?"

"You'd make a great profiler."

"No, I'm just perceptive."

He stopped near the double doors to his classroom. "I think you're more than perceptive."

She smirked at him. "I think you'll never know if we don't have dinner sometime."

Reid started to say no, because dinner was scary. Maeve's face flitted through his head, the only way he remembered her, unsmiling and with blood on her face, but this time the thought didn't hurt so badly he wanted to scream. This time it was the ache of someone missed and never forgotten.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

She handed him a business card. "My cell phone is on the back."

He reached for the door as she turned and walked away from him. He was just about to step through when he heard her call out his name.

"Hey, Spencer."

He stepped back and let the door fall shut. "What?"

"I like your scarf."

He looked down baffled at his favorite winter accessory. "This?"

"Yeah, purple is supposed to make you feel empowered. I'd say its working."

She left him there staring after her until someone hurried out of the classroom and tapped him on the shoulder. "Dr. Reid, are you alright?"

He turned to see Professor Walker, whose classroom he was using, standing there with her hand on her hip and an annoyed expression in her blue eyes.

"Yes, everything is fine."

"We're ready to begin."

So am I, he thought and followed her into the lecture hall.


End file.
